


Rude

by TwoCatsTailoring



Series: Elena's Boys [2]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-06
Updated: 2013-10-06
Packaged: 2017-12-28 14:17:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/992864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoCatsTailoring/pseuds/TwoCatsTailoring





	Rude

“'Lena. What's up?”

 

I stood in the hall outside Rude's apartment door wondering if this was okay or if this was really the best time to be bothering him. Three in the morning is a weird hour for a social call, but this wasn't exactly social.

 

I opened my mouth to speak, but all that came out was a creaky noise and I felt my face start to crumble.

 

“Shit, not again,” Rude cursed under his breath and pulled me through his door, shutting it behind me as he folded me into a hug.

 

“Shhhh. It's okay. It's over and done, now.” He held me and rocked me back and forth just a bit while I cried all over his wicked tattoos. “You never have to go back there. Shhh.”

 

After several minutes of much of the same shushing and soothing, I dried up and pulled away from him. “I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't run across town every time, but...”

 

He shook his head and held up a hand. “It's fine. I've told you before I don't mind.” He shrugged and grinned at me, the light bedside his bed reflecting in his eyes. “It's kind of flattering. You get scared and you run here, even thought there are other places closer.” He followed that with a significant look.

 

I could never hide anything from Rude. He just knows, like one of those weird gypsy psychics at a street fair. Only Rude's isn't a calculated trick. He does just KNOW stuff.

 

“Come on,” he said, yawning and scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “I'm going back to bed and you should too. Worst boogeyman here is me.” He made a face at me and I laughed.

 

“Oh yeah. You are a REAL threat. Kitten whisperer!” I followed him up the two stairs to the raised part of the room that served as his bedroom. I stripped off my coat and toed off my shoes before untucking the sheets from one side of his bed while he crawled back in on the other.

 

“Boo, motherfucker,” he yawned at me and I giggled. “Keep your cold feet to yourself. And so help me if I wake up with your hand doing that face-hugger thing on me again, I'm biting off your fingers one at a time.”

 

I snickered myself back to sleep and didn't dream any more that night of silver hair and blackness and blood.

 

And I woke Rude up with the smell of coffee and a quick re-training on how to escape being smothered with a pillow.


End file.
